


Silhouettes

by BeccabooO1O



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccabooO1O/pseuds/BeccabooO1O
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It shouldn't have bothered her. They barely ever did. But a couple backhanded comments - said right to her face in an insulting tone - from the victim's widow that she and Dean had been questioning reminded her that she wasn't as attractive as most other girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silhouettes

**Author's Note:**

> Based off request: 'The reader has a three inch scar on her right cheek from having a tumor removed as a teenager and while it usually doesn’t bother her, she sometimes is self conscious about it. Dean sees her upset and she tells him about the surgery and how she is self conscious. Maybe they end up together. Sad at first but fluffy ending.'
> 
> Title from 'Silhouettes' by Of Monsters and Men

It shouldn’t have bothered her. They barely ever did. But a couple backhanded comments - said right to her face in an insulting tone - from the victim’s widow that she and Dean had been questioning reminded her that she wasn’t as attractive as most other girls.

And why would that be? Her face. She had a three inch scar that ran across her right cheek. It doesn’t usually bother her since it added to the dangerous trope of the hunter. But sometimes - like now - the blemish just made her feel lesser than everyone else around her.

She and Dean were in the Impala, driving back to the motel after a long day of questioning people. She could feel Dean glancing over at her from time to time. But she was too busy staring aimlessly through her window at the changing scenery to care. The words that had been said to her were still going through her mind, like a runner sprinting around a track over and over again.

_“You’d be so much prettier if you just got some surgery for that face of yours, Agent Hill.’”_

_“I beg your pardon?” She asked the widow, wondering if she had heard that comment correctly._

_“With such a hideous scar marking up your face like that, it makes one wonder what you must have done to deserve it." The widow said flippantly as she opened the front door and led the two FBI agents out._

_“Excuse me?” She stopped dead in her tracks, but Dean kept walking._

_“Here, love.” The widow held her hand out, a small business card in her dainty hand. “The best plastic surgeon in the country. Just tell him that I sent you. With a prettier face, you might have a better chance with Agent ‘Pretty Eyes’ over there.” The widow looked over a Dean and winked before looking expectantly at her._

_“I’m fine, thanks.” Was all she said before ripping the business card and throwing it out before opening the passenger door and joining Dean in the Impala. The Winchester started up the car, leaving the house and the formidable woman behind._

That had been fifteen minutes ago. Dean had asked her what the widow had said to her, but she had brushed him off. She told him that it was nothing, even if it had brought her down to her knees - figuratively, of course. She would never actually break down in front of others, it would tear down the difficult image that she had worked so hard to build.

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore. What’s wrong.” Dean broke, unable to handle the deafening silence in his Baby.

“Nothing.” She dismissed, really not wanting to talk about it.

“Bullshit. Tell me.” He pressed.

“It’s nothing.” She repeated, this time more forcefully.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“If it has something to do with what that lady said-” She didn’t think that he was listening to what the widow said to her.

“It’s true, though.” All she wanted to do was shove those three words back into her mouth as soon as they left.

“Why the hell would you think that?” Dean asked, looking away from the road and at her.

“Look at me, Dean.” he faced the Winchester in question and gestured to her face - her cheek with the damned scar in particular. “She- she’s right. I am hideous.” She smiled humorlessly. “Maybe that’s why I can’t get a date.” She laughed harshly, not even trying to hide her feelings. She was falling down the spiral and she wasn’t able to stop any of it from happening.

Dean scoffed. “No. The reason you can’t get a date is because you intimidate all the guys at the bar when we go out. Trust me on this one.” He laughed and she looked back at him. She smiled before realizing that he didn’t know. She had never told anyone. Ever.

She made the impulsive decision to tell Dean the story behind her scarred face. “Do you know how I got this?” She pointed to the damned scar on her right cheek.

“A hunt gone bad? That’s where I got my scars.” He answered.  Well,” He smirked at her. “Other than a crazy night with this one blonde who- you know, that’s beside the point.” His eyes back on the highway road in front of him.

“Nope.” She ignored his after comment. His green eyes flashed towards her before focusing again on the road.

“Then how?”

She took a deep breath before starting. “When I was younger I developed a tumor.” She pointed again to the area where the tumor had been. “But I got it removed before it was too late. It nearly killed me, and all I’ve got is this scar to prove it.” She chuckled quietly at her attempt of a joke. “It’s funny. As soon as I was released from the hospital, my family took me out hunting, as if nothing had happened. They treated me as if I was fragile, as if I didn’t know about this fucking scar on my face.

“When I told my dad that I had been accepted into Berkeley and that I was going leave the life, he - well, he laugh at my face.” She looked out the window at the trees that the Impala was passing behind it. “He said that nobody would treat me as a normal person with this scar on my face. I’d never get taken seriously and I’d never be happy without him. I was too soft for a face like this. He said that I’d be begging him to take my sorry ass back as soon as I left because no one would want me and my fugly face around them.”

“And did you? Beg him, I mean."

“Never got a chance.” She met his intense gaze. “He died on a hunt we went on a week later. A poltergeist got him.”

“Did you at least go to college?”

“No. I figured Daddy was right. I was too soft to be taken seriously with a scar like this.” She looked down at anything but the older Winchester at her side. “So I toughened up  so that no one could hurt me like before. You know?

“I hunted solo for a couple of months until I got a letter in the mail about the new craze - online college courses. So I took a few classes and got my Bachelor’s.” She shrugged. “And then I was bouncing off between hunting and writing papers on mythology and lore for various universities.” She smiled. “That was before I met you guys, at least.”

“Wow.”

“What?” She asked, confused.

He smiled. “That’s the most you’ve ever spoken at one time.” He explained. “And you don’t need anything to make me notice you.”

“You think so?” She let her hand fall from her lap and onto the leather seat.

He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Oh, I know so, apple-pie.” He flashed her his amazingly charming smile before looking back to the highway. She smiled to herself and looked back out the window to the changing scenery, happy that Dean had accepted her - flaws and all.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to Smile :)  
> ~Becca


End file.
